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IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 



IDYLS 



GETTYSBURG. 



MISS E. LATIMER. 



Sail od, O Union, strong and gieat ! 

ii: ii: tii ^ * 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our te:trs 
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears. 
Are all with thee — are all with thee. 
Longfellow. 



PHILADELPHIA : 
GEORGE M A C L E A X, 

719 Saksom Street. 

1872. 



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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by 

Miss E. LATIMER, 
In tlie Office of the LiliraTian of Congress, at AVasliington. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

DEDICATION. 7 



PREFACE 11 I 

BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG 15 

i 

I 

IDYL 1. ' 

The Unknown 49 

IDYL IL 

Blighted, yet Beautiful 85 

I 

IDYL III. i 

Eablt Flowers from Gulp's Hill 115 ^ 

I 

IDYL IV. ' 

National Orphan Homestead 123 



IN THE INTEREST 



OF A BEAUTIFUL CHARITY, WITIJ 

DEVOUT PR4YER 

FOR OUR Ni^TION'S PEJ^CE, 




OF OnE PATRIOT DEAD 
TpSE IDYLS pE SJ^CREDLY 

DEDICATED 
BYTIJEAUTI;10R. 



PREFACE. 



" The Idyls of Gettysburg " make another offering to 
that portion of our literature, that stands identified in subject 
with the late most important struggle for the supremacy of 
law, and maintenance of national unity. 

The design in the prose article, The Battle op Gettys- 
burg, is not to present the descriptive, but to speak of its im- 
portance as to result. Aided by its parallelism with a renowned 
battle of antiquity, the argument becomes effective. The 
battle of Gettysburg, considered in its immediate results. 
stayed the tide of invasion, re-animated the patriot heart of 
the country, and proved the culminating point in the great 
struggle. 

But its cost in treasure and blood, the homes it left deso- 
late, the hearts it broke, the orphanage it entailed, must, for 
this generation, require, that we wreathe the emblems of 
mourning with the triumphal bay. But after-time will reject 
this interlacing ; the traces of grief will be lost in the wrapped 
glory and greatness vouchsafed to the battles of freedom, 
when right and progress have demanded, as here, earnestness 
even unto death. 

Idyl First, " The Unknown,''^ is a fragment of personal 

history, expressing the devotion of that innumerable host of 

patriots, rallying so promptly at the country's call, emulous 

11 



12 PREFACE. 

of noble deed, and shrinking not from death itself, should 
defence demand the sacrifice. 

Idyl Second portrays the love that is supreme in its truth ^ 
and touching tenderness. The love that triumphs over the 
selfish, and sectional, defying each barrier thus raised by pride 

or hate. 

"The beautiful love, like to heaven, 
But to the blessed only given." 

This volume, thus presented, is to aid that most beautiful 
Charity, The National Orphan Homestead at Gettysburg. 
To this end, the net proceeds through all its editions are made 
sacred, while this class of orphanage shall claim, as now, 
protection and support. 

The embellishments, which give the eflFort a most pleasing 
feature, have been generously furnished by Frank Leslie, 
Esq., Artist and Publisher. The Messrs. Harper, also equally 
benevolent in the Orphan's Cause, made kind I'esponse in its 
behalf. To each and all, who have helped hitherto, by gift 
of time, material, or money, grateful thanks are tendered. 

For the volume so made up, and for the object as set forth, 
a gracious reception is asked from a generous public sympa- 
thizing so deeply in the claim, and so kindly responsive to 
meet the needed care due our 




NATION'S 0RPHAN4GE. 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 



Idyls of Gtettysburg. 




'HE battle of Gettysburg, as an event, 
lias become the property of sober 
history. The skill of its command- 
ers, on either side, has been fully discussed, 
and opinions rendered. Surely its destruc- 
tion of life is still felt in many thousand 
homes through all the land. Those of the 
Union soldiery now reposing in quiet, beauti- 
ful sepulture in its grounds, are counted by 
thousands; then the hosts of the wounded, 
carried here and there, to linger for a time, 
and then die. Add the great number that 
found burial elsewhere, and the estimate 
swells to as many more thousands as stand 
recorded within the Cemetery bounds. Of 

ir, 



16 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

its carnage, it is enough to say here, that it 
was frightful, and without parallel on our 
battle fields, at the time of occurrence. 

"The Wilderness," later, might have been 
nearly as decimating, and also the combined 
assaults around Kichmond and Petersburg. 
But the three days at Gettysburg slew its 
thousands of brave men. This battle, in 
every aspect, may be regarded as the culmi- 
nating point in the great struggle of the 
mightiest forces of one people. 

Numbers on each side much the same, — 
that is, as they stood on the morning of the 
second day's fight. The numbers on both 
sides bore some approximation to that great- 
est of all armies ever called into the field at 
one time. That host of men, marshalled to 
serve the pride and despotism of the last 
and most renowned of Persian conquerors. 
If we should search in the past to find paral- 
lelism for Gettysburg, in morale of result, as 
also, in corresponding feature of circumstance 
attending, — Marathon is that battle — so readr 
ily suggested to the student of history. That 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 17 

Marathon of Xerxes and Miltiades, familiar in 
quotation, as allusion in ancient and modern 
lay. The mastery of Greece for ages, and the 
morale of her influence to remotest time, was 
to be decided by a single battle. The de- 
cision to be made, by the event of defeat 
or victory, — whether her genius and art should 

rivet the eye of the world, — or oriental bar- 
barism should interpose to extinguish both. 

This battle was to decide whether repub- 
lican usage, or tyrannic waywardness should 
control in Greece henceforth. Whether the 
sword was to flash, the chisel to fas Ii ion, the 
temple to rise dedicated to freedom, or 
everything made to subserve the arrogance 
of the capricious and dissolute conqueror. 
It was a morning of intense interest to the 
Greek, as to the whole world, that ushered in 
the day of Marathon. Every circumstance 
favored the invader; numbers — a thousand 
fold ; and town after town, state after state 
had submitted. Lacedaemon and Attica alone 
unsubdued. The invincible was written upon 
every standard. 

2 



18 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG.. 

How with the invaded? 

A handful of men to oppose the conqueror, 
and no more. Those who might have 
strengthened the ranks wei'e hesitating on a 
matter of superstition. Then, for those on 
the field, there was the trouble of divided 
command. Failing, and it would seem they 
must fail, — then Lacedsemon, as Athens, 
was open to the invader, — no further resis- 
tance. But the vexed question of command 
was settled. The few, in their prowess, be- 
came victorious over the many. The faint- 
hearted became strong. Greece was saved. 
Freedom was in the ascendant. Art was 
inspired. The world's history was modified, 
— changed by the triumph of the Greeks at 
Marathon. 

Mark the parallelism, and the field of 
Gettysburg may be estimated better in its 
connection with the past, and, especially, in 
its influence upon the future. The Marathon 
of our time, the marked event in the history 
of a great nation, the battle itself, the 
mighty argument for law and progress, — 



^•^i'l 




BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 21 

when as here, the argument was given to the 
decision of the merciless sword. 

Preceding. — Lee has crossed the Potomac. 
Prestige is upon his banners, and the guide 
of his march. It was not a hurried march, 
and to the point of contest it was trium- 
phant. This invading army was large, well 
appointed, and proudly defiant. Lee makes 
his halt in the rural regions, whose valleys 
are shallow, and whose rounded high lands 
are but the outposts of the great AUeghanies. 

The head-quarters selected was but a 
sample of the cottages scattered throughout 
that rural region, where pretension is so little 
known. 

Near is the small town of Gettysburg, 
occupying one of those shallow valleys, be- 
tween corresponding lines of high grounds. 
The principal street seems to correspond in 
direction with the high land, to the north 
and south. This town had then, as now, 
its schools, its college, and its theological 
seminary. Lee found it with much the same 
or a less population than at present. This 



22 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

population is disposed to the peaceful and 
plodding. The tocsin had reverberated 
through this valley before his coming. But 
the sound, dying away to the south, and the 
waveless current of Gettysburg life rolled on, 
even as it rolled before! Now and then a 
sturdier man went to the war. But boys, 
professors, and ministers, make not the ma- 
terial for armed resistance, or aggi-essive war- 
fare. So Lee sat down master of the position. 
Rested, refreshed his army — burning no ham- 
lets, committing no depredation. On the 
Union side, at the time of his coming, there 
was indeed but a handful of armed men in 
the neighborhood. But, as the day of trial 
drew on, there was some reinforcement, — and 
the small force was led by the heroic Rey- 
nolds. But however brave and well disci- 
plined, — what could a mere handful do in 
opposing a large and well disciplined army ? 
Such an army as had taken post along the 
high grounds to the north of Gettysburg? 

But where is the army of the Potomac? 
As far in the rear of Gettysburg, on the last 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 23 

days of June, as the needed Spartans at 
Marathon. This army of the Potomac, if not 
troubled by the contradictory orders of ten 
generals, who must each rule his day, — as 
the Athenian at Marathon, — yet the difficulty 
was to find one satisfactory alike to the army 
and country. A battle must be fought, and 
substantial victory declared. If this is not 
accomplished, then the Middle and Northern 
States, — their commercial and manufacturing 
centres, with the seat of government itself, 
would become the property of the invaders — 
be yielded to the control, for the time, at least, 
of an exultant soldiery, pertaining to the 
army of invasion. 

It was a fortunate occurrence at this junc- 
ture, that General Meade was ordered to 
command the Army of the Potomac. He 
proved the Miltiades of the modern Marathon. 
His elevation w^as followed by that despatch 
the crisis demanded. The march to Gettys- 
burg hastened. The cavalry arm of the 
Union Service was interposed between Lee 
and his base of supplies. This gave the 



24 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Southern General the first uneasiness, and 
precipitated the conflict at Gettysburg. Still 
it was, no doubt, with a feeling of much con- 
tempt for resistance that could be offered by 
the small force under Reynolds, that the 
contest was opened; — it was to the north of 
the town that the terrible conflict began 
on the first of July, 1863. As the hot 
burning sun of that day mounted to his 
meridian, — Reynolds with his handful of men 
as opposed to nearly 100,000 might well 
have wished for night to come sooner, or the 
Army of the Potomac to appear in force. 

Ah! night came only too soon, with its 
shroud of darkness, for the heroic General of 
the first day's fight on this renowned field.' 
Conspicuous, — the soul of every plan and 
strategic movement, — our hero fell, in front of 
a beautiful open grove of oaks, pierced by the 
cowardly ball of a sharp-shooter. His death 
was a great loss to the country, and a most 
severe blow to the work of the day. A retreat 
was hastily conducted, that brought the Union 
forces through the affrighted town, followed 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 27 

closely by their pursuers. The post was 
taken, however, as designated by Reynolds 
before his fall. His order, if driven and he 
knew they must be, if unsupported, was, for 
the forces to fall back, and take a defensive 
stand on Cemetery Hill. This is the hand- 
somely swelling highland at the south of the 
town. To the Union forces that had taken 
stand upon this Hill night came — it found 
them baffled, dispirited, and unsupported. 
The first day had been long, trying and 
perilous. Their lamented leader fallen ; the 
night itself sultry; the moonlight seemed 
heated, and the air sulphurous and oppres- 
sive. The town was in the possession of the 
invader. His line of pickets ran along the 
lower terrace of the highland, where the 
Union force had halted for determined stand. 
The troops occupied the elevation, with Gulp's 
Hill to the right, and Round Top to the left. 
These heights gave admirable position for the 
defensive. Support was needed, and it came: 
under the cover of night, it came. Its 
silence foreshadowed success. Tlie Baltimore 



28 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Pike, leading south, was open to the unob- 
structed approach of the coming forces. 

Meade, the new commander, was in ad- 
vance of the hurrying army corps. He 
endorsed, with encomium^ the central position 
seized, requiring that it should he held at any 
cost. The disposition of forces, as fast as they 
arrived, was made accordingly. It was bold 
to seize this centre, with its outlying hills 
right and left. It was braver to hold these 
in the face of such a line of artillery as 
fronted on corresponding heights of Seminaiy 
Kidge; artillery of heaviest calibre, posted 
at leisure, and trained to such accuracy, that 
every shot must tell. The arrival of General 
Meade on the night of the first, was followed 
fast by the hurrying divisions of the Army of 
the Potomac. 

By the morning of the second, the newly 
arrived forces stand, disposed with masterly 
skill, along that three miles of high land, 
having Cemetery Hill for centre, Gulp's Hill 
to the right, and Round Top to the left. No 
cannonading on the morning of the second, 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 20 

that was in any way formidable. The pause 
gave the brief respite so needed by the over- 
marched Union forces, proving their salvation 
ultimately. 

The delay was a great mistake in the 
commander of the opposing forces. Lee 
hitherto, had been so quick to seize and im- 
prove advantage, that this yielded pause — 
this losing delay, is not easily accounted for. 
To his assisted eye there appeared a persis- 
tant stand on Cemetery Hill. This, he might 
have thought, could be dislodged or quickly 
flanked. This stand routed, — the success of 
yesterday followed up, — and the probably 
advancing columns of the Union Army could 
be met and overcome in detail. Then Phila- 
delphia, Baltimore and Washington would be 
open to his troops, as certainly as there are 
roads leading thither. But this bliss of 
thought, — such expectation could not have 
prevailed, had Lee comprehended that a 
powerful army was noiv stretching along the 
highlands here, fronting those where he had 
so skilfully taken post — the army that for- 



30 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

bids further invasion. Lee is surveying the 
modern Marathon, but does not know it. His 
lookout this morning is the finest his side of 
the town can offer. Gulp's Hill, wooded and 
swelling, is brought in range of his glass. 
Tlie gentler slope of Ceinetery Hill is scanned. 
Moving his glass slowly, it brings in soon the 
frowning Round Tops — the less, and gentler 
elevation of that name, lying nearest Ceme- 
tery Hill. The heights are all fine, and ad- 
mirabl}^ adapted for a famous battle ground. 
But where are the men ? Such the pertinent 
question. It was soon answered, — They ai'e 
there. A strong wall of defence has been 
shaped, — built up there during thd past 
night. Not conspicuous this wall from the 
opposite hill — for ravine, copse, rolling inter- 
mediate ground and forest intercept. The 
survey, most carefully made, is indeterminate 
of real fact. But this wall is there, movable 
at once and massive. 

But the morning of the second day of bat- 
tle has passed. It has been comparatively 
quiet along the lines. The Union soldier 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 31 

lias taken breath since his arrival. But 
when is the cannonading to begin, and the 
fiercer charge to succeed? It is past the 
meridian. There is a signal — and that line 
of cannon, posted for miles along the ridge, 
open upon Cemetery Hill. In the pause of 
the morning, there had been time to lay down 
obelisk, cross, and tablet on the summit of 
the hill, which ground had been consecrated 
to the dead. It was well that the pious 
command to do this had been issued in time, 
for the shower of exploding shells, solid shot, 
and hurled missiles of every description, was 
fearful beyond conception. These missiles 
fell but to pierce, plough, and crush. Nothing, 
it would seem, could stand before such an at- 
tack. Yet the centre wavered not, — however 
fierce the onset; and the assailants found the 
response as heavy in return. All along from 
Gulp's Hill away to the left, blazed the cor- 
don of heaviest artillery. It was perceived 
now by Lee, there was a General and an 
army on the heights occupied by the Union 
forces, as well as along the brow and slopes 



32 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

of Seminary Ridge. So the contest raged, 
with far greater fury than the former day, 
along the lengthened lines. To outflank or 
break the centre of the Union force was Lee's 
full determination. The preceding evening, 
either could have been done ; on the morning 
of this day, it might have been accomplished, 
but not without the greatest loss. At noon, 
the Union army was, in its strength, posted 
along its whole line of battle. At the open- 
ing of the assailing cannonade it was impreg- 
nable. So it proved, being tried, — tested in 
every way with a fury and determination 
that perhaps was never equalled. 

The charge to left — with repulse ; renewed, 
with attempt to dislodge from Round Top — 
failed. Then followed the attempt upon the 
right, and fiercer press upon the centre. 
But in vain; no wedge could be made to 
enter, and no diversion bend. 

The fighting upon, and near the Round 
Tops this day exceeded, in persistence and 
fury, that of any other portion of the wide 
spread, bloody field. 



ill 

ill. 




BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 35 

Little Round Top was the scene of desper- 
ate struggle, as also the higher eminence. 
The Pennsylvania Reserves covered them- 
selves with glory here. 

Whoever has seen this portion of the 
famous field, can never forget its strange and 
most striking aspect, especially, when con- 
templated as a battle ground. 

The higher eminence, Big Round Top, is 
scattered so thickly with granitic bowlders 
from base to summit, as to suggest that the 
wars of the Titans might have opened here. 
In this battle of the second day, the fighting 
amidst the bold masses of rock — the hand 
to hand encounters must have required a 
potency of nerve, a vigor of determination 
that the bravest could scarcely be able to 
support. Late in the afternoon of this day, 
the fearful charges, surging around its base, 
extended far up among the rocks. The re- 
sponding artillery of the two armies, rever- 
berating in awful intonation amid the 
separate and superimposed masses of bowl- 
der, added to the awfulness. So too, that 



36 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

carnage of the near clover field, — the literal 
mowing down of men in the peach orchard, 
lying a little to the north of west from Eound 
Top. These near and associated combina- 
tions of horror and carnage have, perhaps, 
never been so persistently presented by a 
battle field of any country, or time. 

But with all this cost and action, in this 
portion of the field, as elsewhere, — the assail- 
lants were compelled to fall back with 
frightful decimation to their morning posi- 
tions for a little rest. The battle had raged 
with, little abatement of fury until a late 
hour; so the time for rest was very brief. At 
length, there was something like the silence 
of night through the town and over the 
field. The morrow will come — it must be 
decisive. The great questions of constitu- 
tional law, and unity left to the arbitrament 
of the sword must receive decision to-morrow. 
Shall a fundamental principle of our Decla- 
rati(m find its demonstration at length? 
Shall the majesty of law be held sacred, or 
faction rule? Shall we indeed become a 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 37 

dissevered nation, or shall we see the bleed- 
ing, gaping wounds close? All these im- 
portant considerations, and more, seem bound 
up in the issues of to-morrow. A moment- 
ous day and a momentous battle! 

The day hastened on ; and the third day's 
contest was decided in favor of freedom, law 
and progress. 

The opening cannonade of this last day of 
the struggle is said to have been more tre- 
mendous, by far, than the preceding. Two 
hundred and fifty cannon, at one time, were 
hurling their volleyed thunders around the 
Union centre, on Cemetery Hill. 

From under these sulphurous clouds — and 
plunging from thence into the suffocating 
blackness now rising above — and now rolling 
down through the valleys from Cemetery 
Hill, there is presented a new phase of 
daring. ''The Louisiania Tigers" charge 
upon the right centre of the Union Army. 
Like the animal whose name they aptly bore, 
they came on their covert track, without 
warning, and charged upon their prey as if 



38 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

a thousand jungles had been unloosed. 
Fierce, sudden and overwhelming as this 
attack was designed to prove, it was beaten 
back, and the ravine, through which they 
were hurried, was strewn with bleeding 
corpses. Associated with this, is made the 
last charge upon the left centre of the Union 
forces. This charge is eighteen thousand 
strong. The flower of southern chivalry, 
without figure of speech, — young men, and 
brave. These were disciplined to such pre- 
cision of movement, as nothing, it would 
seem, could jostle or disarrange. The charge 
combined the w^eight of the phalanx w^ith 
the swiftness of the legion. As the shadow 
of a hastening cloud, they move over the 
intervening fields, uncovered to the sweeping 
artillery of the Union centre, which, literally 
mows their ranks as they rapidly approach, 
but the widest gaps in the advancing 
columns are so quickly closed, as to make 
the beholder doubt it has been made. Thus 
on and on, hurry these charging columns, 
without pause, and without falter, until 



Wki 11> 



','iiliyti'lliriiii'l'iii(lk-^ 




BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 41 

bayonet and ball threaten positive annihila- 
tion. Thus approaching, and thus received 
— faltering not, even now; but falling in 
cumbrous heaps, sinking as by legions. It 
is enough. Never was there a bloodier field 
and never a more determined charge than 
the closing that contest at Gettysburg. It is 
enough — the question is decided. Our country 
has vouchsafed a future of more glory, too, 
than that covering her past renown. 

The tide of invasion was dashed back — and 
the recoil such as to plainly indicate the 
ultimate Union triumph. 

The Persian monarch retired from Mara- 
thon with a routed army. The prestige of 
success had departed ; one defeat cancelling 
so many victories ! 

Lee drew off his shattered forces from 
Gettysburg, and recrossed the Potomac. So 
this most formidable armed resistance to 
Constitutional law, and right v*TiS closed on 
the soil the slave had hitherto sown and 
reaped. But the victory, here achieved, was 
a triumph of freedom. The last rivet had 



42 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

fallen from the shackles of the slave, and his 
enfranchisement a foregone decision when 
the last charge of Lee failed on the field of 
Gettysburg. 

At Marathon, the triumph of the Greek 
was followed by the most interesting conse- 
quences. The Parthenon soon crowned the 
Acropolis at Athens. The achievements of 
the chisel of Phidias, in its ornamenta- 
tion, inspired the idea that the gods dwelt 
with men; or that the human mind had 
received new powers, and the hand new 
skill. Art was indeed glorified, and the 
beautiful reigned. The dramatist caught the 
inspiration and learned to personate the 
thought that breathes, in the word that burns. 
The historian, too, felt the happy influence, 
and wrote with a pen as clear as if dipped 
in light. So the thunder of that eloquence 
that warmed and glowed, while it enforced 
such lessons as the victories of freedom in- 
spired, continues in its vibrations still to 
awaken. 

The victorv at Marathon electrified the 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 43 

Grecian mind — elevated the Grecian charac- 
ter — so inspired the Grecian genius, that fame 
has conferred upon it a lasting immortality. 

The Union victory at Gettysburg is too 
recent to be understood or fully appreciated 
in all its individual, and wider national 
bearing. But it has already given a historic 
importance to the localit}^ of the battle that 
must continue* while admiration for bravery 
and sacrifice for country shall animate the 
human heart. Gettysburg has taken its 
rank among the battle fields of freedom, for 
it became the boundary beyond which invasion 
could not pass. When the vast tidal wave 
of rebellion, rolling up from the southern 
gulf, threatening, for a time, no pause until 
it should mingle with the lakes of the north; 
here it toas met and turned backward — to 
menace no more ! And losing its unity, was 
lost, sinking downward through unseen chan- 
nels; making its slow way back to mingle, 
without disturbance, again in the vast ocean 
of truer thought and purer motiv^e, investing 
our grand nationality. 



44 BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 

Art, the exponent of tendencies and the 
measure of progress, has ah-eady testified the 
deepest sympathy with the patriotism, and 
admiration for the bravery of our citizen 
soldiery. Under such guidance, a portion of 
the stern battle field here has been smoothed 
with great care, and the fallen of Union host 
allowed to find quiet sepulture. These are 
gathered here in much closer companionship 
than when found after the three days of 
battle. A massive inclosure defends the 
broad acres thus set apart in consecration. 
The granite headstone is directed to be hewn 
and inscribed. Trees of varied flower, form, 
and foliage planted through the grounds. 
Avenues, cut and gravelled, wind through 
the fields of richest green. On the highest 
portion of this consecrated slope, is raised 
the marble monumental column, — so truly 
artistic in conception and finish — symboliz- 
ing what has been — and the glory that will 
be. 

Truly, the painter, the sculptor, and the 
poet — the orator, and the historian have 



BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 45 

expressed the fulness of the inspiration, born 
of the great issues that were folded up in the 
three days struggle for a nation's better life 
on the battle field of Gettysburg. May all 
the lessons deducible therefrom, tend but to 
peace and progress — to our country's unity 
and greatness to the latest time. 

To make sure the attainment of that end 
— to bequeath in faith the promise of such 
glorious anticipation, — we must be true to 
the memory of the sacrificed. We must often 
allow the heart to be made tender by the tale 
of his love — by the moral of that life yielded 
in such beautiful devotion to country and to 
the cause of right. 



IDYL I. 



THE TJNKNOW]^. 



IDYL I. 



LNTRODUCrrORY. 

Our land again is blest, 
Smiles the sweet peace anew; 

That beautiful behest 
To live as brothers true: 

Hence follow'd — still may rise 

Blessing from sacrifice. 

Days hostile, dread and dark! 

The cost we must deplore ; 
They leave a scathing mark 

Where all looked fair before: 
Leave a deep, burning trace 
Centuries but efface. 

4 49 



IDYLS OP GETTYSBURG. 

Just, — and forget the men 
Swelling the mighty host 

Who stood up boldly then, 
Else law and right were lost! 

Yielding the life we prize, 

Forget such sacrifice I 

No I never will forget ; 

Nay, never cease to prize: 
Their glory's sun not set, 

Their noble sacrifice 
Shall live to latest days, 
Chanted in richest lays. 

Yes, — snatched from faction's hate, 
We yield them unto fame 

Who moored anew our State 
Drifting on frightful main: 

Who braving seas of strife 

Died for a nation's life. 



T H E [J N K N W N. 53 

We jdeld with pride to fame 

The mighty martyr host, 
Enrolling humblest name, 

!N'ot one of all be lost. 
Tell their touching story, 
Wreathe each name with glory! 

Nor ever die the tale, 

For love we bear his child: 

Pity for her, so pale, 

Hiding despair, she smiled: 

When girding armor on, 

The soldier left his home. 

He bade the last adieu 

And turned so quick away; 

He, the patriot true, 
His country to obey, 

Surrendered home and life — 

01 shield his child, his wife! 



IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 54 

THE ENLISTMENT. 

Our patriot soldier of the crisis represents 
the spirit of that innumerable band rallying 
for the defence of the nation's flag. The 
enlistment took place at his workshop, and 
having put the few things in order there, 
hurries home to make the announcement 
that he is enrolled as one of the citizen 
soldiery. 

He felt how trying would be such an- 
nouncement, and now lingered to gain 
strength, as well as to set his little shop in 
order. It was the twilight hour when he 
sought his home, a mile or two distant. 
With the fervor of accustomed earnestness, 
deepened by the events of the day, on his 
arrival there ; the address opens : 

Wife of my bosom, listen 
Am late from daily toil; 

Why doth the tear-drop glisten, 
Ah! have you learned it all? 



T H E U N K N W N. 55 

The flag again is lower'd, 

Defeat but follows still; 
Complaint is only poured, 

And thousands called to fill 
Broken ranks, and waning — 

We are summon'd to the fight; 
New recruits are arming, 

Some leave, dear wife, to night! 

Wife's Reply. 

Was it the signal bell? 

Ah! never so before; 
Was ev'ry stroke a knell, 

I feared the call once more! 
Counted the hours till night; 

But, dear, you will not go! 
You cannot feel it right! 

Mine! do not leave us so 
Sadly, and all alone — 

Going — ne'er to return! 



56 idyls of gettysburg. 

Husband. 

Forbode not thus so ill, 
My trust is in the right, 
Strange continuous thrill 
Pervades my heart to-night. 

I love my wife, my home, 
Love so our children dear. 

But truly, time has come, 
When wrong to linger here. 

The call that came to day, 
More stirring than before. 

We dare not disobey. 

Three hundred thousand more 

Of strong men for the field; 

Of strong men for the fight; 
These, flashing swords must wield, 

Must leave our homes to night! 



the unknown. 57 

Wife. 

Mine! do not go; 0, stay! 

Let others meet the foe; 
Stay by thy home, I pray — 

Implore thee, do not go! 

Who goes retnrneth not 

The cruel war but slays! 
See our unfinished cot, 

Where each chill wind that strays, 

And where the showers of rain 
Such easy entrance gain. 
Trusting, more comfort here, 
Leave us not thus, my dear! 

You see the constant care 
To shield from damp chill air. 
They are asleep, our three, 
So sweetly — Come and see. 



58 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Our eldest — mark his face; 
Alice — in girlish grace. 
Say, here, thou wilt not go, 
My heart sinks, grieving so! 

Husband. 
Oh! such pleading wounds my heart: 
I would not, so soon, depart — 
Leave in unprepared hour 
To poverty's seeming power, 
Mine, so very, very dear: 
But the peril bids us go; 
Spare the grief, that presseth so. 
Would I had more careful been. 
Provident, as other men; 
Ah! this want of care, my wife, 
Seemeth wrong; but after-life 
Shall atone — all, all so free. 
From the lessons learned at sea! 
I have labor'd; honest brow 

From the work shop cometh now, 



THEUNKNOWN. 69 

I labor, but have no care; 

Money goes for any prayer; 

Open hand — and heart, you know, 

Melted by the tale of woe. 

Impulsive — wife, dry that tear! 

Forgive — henceforth never fear. 

My every fault I see. 

Could now weep for poverty; 

Feel deeply this want of thought, 

See the evil it has wrought. 

Trust me! I will be more just 

Be happier — fully trust. 

The cot improved, feel the cheer; 

Read the promise written here. — 

The villagers will repair, 

Adding other needed care, 

For our children, for thee, wife! 

They promise care, through the strife. 

Shelter'd soon, from wind and rain, 

So, ere winter comes again, 



60 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

More of comfort will be here 



J 



Better walls and roof, my dear! 
There is hope, for darkest hour, — 
And with reproach, still the power 
To follow whither duty leads; 
Stand for country — in her needs. 
So loving thee, all the more. 
For each privation shared before, 
Loving with the fondest heart — 
The country's peril bids us part. 
Say to me. Go! speed me on! 
Enrolled, before rising sun 
Looks again on battles lost, — 
On campaign, such life has cost! 
Gh^eat the peril, cease delay, 
Speed me ere another day! 
Bid us all be very brave, 
Keep our vow, the flag to save! 
In cause sacred, and so just, 
God will shield — the holy trust. 



T H E [J N K N W N. 61 

Succor those, we leave behind, 
Folding in His mercy kind. 
Dear wife! this trust so be thine! 
Teach our children, — it is mine. — 
The good pastor came to share 
In decision, — would prepare 
To meet trial, that has come, 
Do the work, that must be done. 
Feels the conflict's very sore. 
Asking for so many more! 
Earnest hope, expressed, as fears, 
Spoke tenderly, half in tears; 
Knew each trial, — all too well, 
Sought the sadness to dispel; 
Pointed to the flag unfurled 
As freedom's, — and the world. 
Its support claimed of the free; 
Its cause the right, humanity. — 
Bade us keep the flag in sight. 
Standing firmly in the right. 



62 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Martyrs falling on the field, 
Country's grateful love, tli^ shield. 
Stretching over those we left, 
Would kind console, if bereft. 
Tremble not, wife, at the thought 
Of devotion only wrought. 
Tremble not, but bless, I pray, — 
Time presses, I must away. 
Swift in duty bid me be; 
Wake not, wife, our cherished three, 
It will so oppress my heart — 
Let me kiss them, so depart! 
Their picture, by early mail, 
Send to the camp, do not fail! 
Will keep it so near my heart; 
For all they are, all thou art. 
Makes me strong in cause so just — 
Home and country are my trust: 
Dear, be firm, be fondly true. 
Heaven keep you all. Loved, adieu! 



THE UNKNOWN. G3 

Silence and grief watch that night, 
Both were there — but morning light 
Calls the prattlers from their rest 
With faces bright — cheered her breast; 
Constant burden — and so care 
Lived within the cottage there. — 
The day all toil, — night brought rest; 
Sometimes came a message blest 
From the field, as when the fray 
Had passed, granted, he would say 

"all is well." 
Then the little cot Avas bright 
Through the day, and through the night, 
Until fear would so dispel 
Joy that came with *'all is well." 
So the days but weave the years, 
Faileth hope — so true our fears! 
But the picture of the three, 
Thought the soldier could not be 
Greater charm, than met him here. 
Gazing on their faces dear- 



64 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Asks his heart, "Who not bless God, 
Even from the pillow sod;" 
For thought of these, through the night 
And the glance, by morning light. 

JjS rfi ^ ^ 5p 

Life was changeful in the cot: 

Trust, so calm, did God allot 

Him, who dared, endured, prayed 

That contest cruel be allayed; 

Who saw in banner, waving free, 

Thus triumphant — Liberty! 

Lonely watch is charmed by love: 

When the bright clear stars above 

Looked so loving from the sky. 

Then each thought would homeward fly. 

NIGHT WATCH NEAR FREDRICKSBURG. 

"I walk the frequent round, 
But hear no warlike sound. 
Our little ones in bed, 
Each before, prayer has said, — 



THE UNKNOWN 65 

Came thus, my name to-night? 
Ah! yes — well, that is right. 
Dear Frank and Ally pray, 
And little Fred, you say; 
Fond thought, so loves to dwell; 
The message,—' all is well." ' 

But rages still a nation's strife. 

The soldier trusts; but weeps the wife. 

GETTYSBURG. 

Boundary passed by hostile host, 
Both pride and prestige swell its boast, 
Soon, through those green and quiet glades. 
Soon, through the leafy, forest shades, 
Screeches the fearful, bursting shell. 
Mingled with battle's frightful yell, — 
'Till rounded hill, in leafy dell, 
Through gorge, ravine, as on the plain, 
All thickly scattered, lie the slain! 



QQ IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

On this famed field, where legions ruled, 
Whose thousands, sinking, thereby sealed 
In death, a nation's new-born life. 
Where peace was made thro' fiercest strife: 
Here, where the firm and fearless North, 
Met the flaming, fiery South: 
Both, pouring forth their noblest blood. 
That flowed and surged in common flood, 
Here, where the sacred flag and free 
Triumphed, at length, gloriously, 
Under whose starry, drooping fold, 
Slept the soldier, in death so cold! 
He stood unhurt — the first rude clash, 
Unhurt, 'mid sword and musket flash; 
Rushed boldly, when the charge was made, 
Defied the point of traitorous blade; 
He pauses not, nor feared to die, 
Beautiful in all fidelity! 
Long, long the conflict had begun. 
Many a charge was lost or won. 



T H E [J N K N W N, 67 

Where, continuous shot or shell 
Wounded, wasted — the thickest fell; 
Aided, too well, with flashing steel, 
Assailed, assailant, bend or reel — 
Where, all was horror, carnage sore, 
Here bowed the brave, to rise no more. 
So slow he drags from out the fray, 
Clasps the picture and tries to pray: 
"God! shield the country of my birth, 
Defend the flag of all the earth! 
It waveth still, I dimly see, 
This must be death and — victory! 
God! my children — hear this prayer: 
Keep, keep them, in Thy mercy's care; 
Be Thou their Father, Blessed One! 
And help me say, 'Thy will be done.'" 

•t* •!• 5f» rfi ^ 

Glorious vision calms the soul 
The shreds of life become a whole; 



68 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

The home of childhood seemeth near, 
Beautiful, as in memory dear. 
So, quiet seas, with islands green, 
Light the beatific scene ; 
Fruits and flowers to inner eyes. 
Waving, as those of paradise. 
The humble cot, the home so dear. 
Was to the spirit's vision clear. 
So, too, the charmed pictured three. 
Joyous in childish gayety, 
Thus playing, near the open door. 
Their very laugh rang out once more. 
Saw, too, their mother's eye of love: 
Came calm submission from above. 
Murmurs again, "Thy will be done, 
Accept in Christ, I come, I come." 
So the patriot martyr died, 
In faith, as beautiful, as tried; 
Pressing the picture to his breast, 
Touching and lovely, let it rest 




UNION soldiers' graves. 




CONFEDERATE GRAVES. 



THEUNKNOWN. 71 

Until the battle's deafening roar 
Is heard in Gettysburg no more. 
Then will come the burial rite, 
Hiding the ghastly, terrible fight. 

THE SCEITE AND BURIAL. 

There they lie! pale, noble still, 
Look! side by side, on plain and hill, 
What a sight! and it well may thrill 
A nation's heart, palsy the hand, 
Drawing fierce, that traitorous brand. — 
Would it were stayed, its vengeful ire 
Annealed anew, in freedom's fire. 
Losing then, such crimson stain! 
Attempered there to peace again. 
Its cruel work here done too well! 
Its work, so fearful, fierce, and fell! 

Dull earth! open thy quiet breast. 
Give its victims place of rest: 



72 IDYLS OF GETTYSBUBG. 

Take the noble patriot slain, 

To the embrace they justly claim. 

^ H* H* 

Out of the line of bloody fray, 
In peaceful rest the unknown lay; 
Blest Angel forms had watched with care, 
The chill, stiff corse slumbering there. 
The face — expressive, pale, still shone — 
Light lingered when the soul had gone. 
"Here another, — our noble dead 
Strew the wide field," so solemn said. 
This man died by the streamlet's brink, 
Trying, perhaps in vain, to drink. 
Ah! here! — a picture on his breast, 
By stiff hand, now so closely pressed : 
His children, verily, yes, three, — 
Last gaze — God, the agony! 
Full consciousness of ebbing life, 
Regret, remorse, the strength, the strife, 



% 



THEUNKNOWN. 73 

Chaos of thought, within the soul, 
Drifting toward the unseen goal ; 
Love brooded o'er this upturned sea, 
Giving to faith the victory. 

He died, — aye! as the Christian dies. 
All darkness from his pathway flies; 
Soft light is on the marble brow, 
So lovely, with peace of heaven now. 
The attitude but speaketh rest, 
Entire expression calm and blest. 

Unloose the picture, now to tell 

VYhere the patriot martyr fell. 

Place of sacrifice, — his deep love. 

The story must the heart so move! 

His humble grave, we mark "Unknown," 

The lowly mound, w^ithout a stone! 

How know the name? What can unseal? 

The picture may sometime reveal! 



74 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Take it lovingly, from its rest; — 

Carefully; see, how it is pressed, 

As if, still fondly, to his breast, — 

He holds his children with such love 

As conquered, when with death it strove. 
* * * 

The picture's story traveled far — 
Most thrilling story of the war. 
Many wept as they read the tale, 
But tears or wishes, nought avail. 
Inquiries came, — kind answer went, — 
For time, much skill, and true art lent 
To reproduce the pictured three, 
With nice, as strict fidelity. 
The fair reprint, at length obtained 
Deepened interest — that was gained. 
The picture read, wherein was seen 
Each little face; its touching mien 
Wrought desire to trace the "Unknown." 
Would find these children of his home, 



THE UNKNOWN. 75 

Soothe these desolate, bring relief, 
So their' s became a common grief. 

♦I" •!• If! 

But pass the weeks, the months away, 

And bring a chill November day. 

The bloody field had hid its slain. 

The recent carnage left no stain. 

In darkened homes, the vacant chair — 

Desolate homes were ev'rywhere, 

'Twas a frightful, terrible field. 

Whereon the nameless soldier sealed 

His love of country and of home 

Yet, head-stone there but says "Unknown!" 

Long rains had washed, cold dews had 

wept ! 
Late autumn winds now hoarsely swept 
Over the low, lessening mound, 
"Unknown" the murmur of each sound. — 
In distant cot, humble as lone, 
Was heard inquiry's earnest tone: 



76 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

*'Our father! why doth he not come? 
He wrote he would, away last June; 
The hills are now so very white — 
I dream of him, Mamma, each night. 
He promised us new sleds and sleighs — 
Mamma, why is it that he stays?" 
So urged the merry little Fred; 
Thus talking all the way to bed. 
Patient, silent, the mother smiled; 
Pressed to heart the happy child. 
Bright, lovely dreams were for the boy. 
But fears the mother's peace destroy. 
Anxious, watching, worn with care, 
Sick — in hospital ? in prison — where ? 
Sad forboding, when will it end ? 
Oh intelligence! Send, send! 
Came, at last, to the cot so lone. 
Thrilling tale of the long "Unknown!" 
With fearful, breathless interest read, 
Alas! alas! she knew — her dead. 



T H E U N K N W N. 79 

The story his, she knew too well, 
Yes, there he fought, and there he fell, 
Unknown, clasping the pictured three, 
"Was her own — Ah ! the agony. 
The sad unveiling of that hour. 
To tell — words, truly, have no power. 
Aye! such deep grief is only known 
To HEARTS thus piercsd, desolate, lone. 

And now the group, so pale with fear, 
She calls, "Come to me, children dear, 
Kneel near me on the cottage floor." 
The lone, and sad, bereaved four. 
Pray the orphan and widow's God, 
Claim the promise of Precious Word. 
Thank Him — the father lost is found, 
But sleeps in death on battle ground. 
So bravely, nobly there he fell! 
Can we repeat, the "All is well." 



80 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

THE PICTURE RETURNED FROM 
THE FATAL FIELD. 

Generous stranger, and so kind, 
Speeds his way, the bereaved to find, 
With this picture, the dying pressed ; 
His parting soul tenderly blest, 
When breathing forth a last deep prayer. 
Mid the battle's sulphurous air: 
Commending thus to pitying heaven, 
The life, the children God had given. 
* * * 

Lovely the humanity that wrought 
For bereaved in the distant cot. 
Beautiful the charity, and true. 
That bids, kindly for other do. 
Generous act, make sacrifice, 
With sorrow, ever sympathise. 
'Tis thus, we take so much from grief, 
Thus giving, we find true relief. 



THEUNKNOWN. 81 

So in the martyred soldier's home, 
Most isolated and most lone, 
As came the facts from fatal field, 
The sad bereavement, nought concealed. 
The yielded life, its close with prayer — 
Came gracious act, and kindness rare. — 
Our soldier died, but love should live; 
We gave, and still, if just, we gi^e. 
Precious life, as offering made, 
Disunion's baleful wrong was stayed; 
Then count not him, as one unknown, 
Whose blood has stained the altar-stone — 
Flowing in fiightful flood and free, 
Fw natiovas law and unity. 

THE ORPHAN'S HOME. 

On the hallowed battle ground, 
This soldier's orphan children found 

So soon, a cheerful, charming home; 

6 



82 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

With these, are many orphans more, 

Whose fathers fell in conflict sore. 

Our nation's justice, these may claim, 

Sure, no child of patriot slain. 

Should ever want for daily bread — 

By vow to him, the martyred dead. 

Yes, — shelter, train his orphan child, 

Lead by love to the Undefiled; 

Guard him kindly, 'mid helpless years, 

Pity his sorrows, dry his tears. 

Aye! by our soldier's trust and prayer, 

Yield Mm the needed^ promised care! 

Teach him the lessons the good should learn, 

So God will bless the land in turn; 

The yawning gulf ope' not again. 

That closed above patriot slain — 

The frightful gulf, gaping so wide. 

And closed, but when our best had died. 



IDYL II. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEATJTlb'UL. 



IDYL II. 



tUfllitd, U«t §tatttiM 



THE ANCESTRAIi HOME OF A UNION OFFICER, WHO FELL 
IN THE SECOND DAY' 8 FIGHT, AT GETTYSBURG. 



The Union soldier's home, 
Was shrined in lovely vale, 

The poplar's mounting cone, 
Leaf tremulous and pale, 

Stood at the entrance gate, 

Warden, to watch and wait. 

Within, the lawn was wide. 
Through which a brooklet ran, 

Flowers grew upon its side. 
And rustic bridge did span; 

Fragrant thorn fenced the bounds, 

Shut lawn, and garden grounds. 

85 



86 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Woods, SO thick, — ^fields beyond,— 
That stretch far, far away, 

To a blue lakelet pond, 

Thence, to a sheltered bay — 

That brimmed with every tide. 

Where fairy yacht did glide. 

The massive mansion old. 
In record of its years. 

Whose touching annals told. 
The tales of joy, and tears. 

These grand, old walls and gray, 

Had stood for many-a-day. 

The present master, brave, 
Hurries from foreign shore, 

A few, brief orders gave, 
And turns away, once more; 

Passes the warden gate, - 

Hastes to a martyr's fate! 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 87 

MEETING AT YALE. 

Where graceful elm, in leafy pride, 
Shades the avenues — trim and wide. 
Where charmed philosophic light, 
Beams steadily, and softly bright; 
Where learned culture blends and binds, 
Refining character, as minds; 
With skill reducing ev'ry ore, 
Blend in brotherhood evermore; 
Those of manliest strength and fire, 
With these of calmer thought, and higher. 
Here, thus met, strong in sympathy. 
The two of strange, sad destiny! 
One from the cold, hardier North, 
Other, from warm, genial South. 
They both so loved the classic page, 
Admired the poet, not less the sage. 
One reticent, if not more learned. 
The other, half in scorn, oft turned 



88 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Away from books, so quick to scan, 
As smoother verse, so living man. 
Both noble in their rivalry, 
Courteous thus, their chivalry. 
Graceful, yielding to just demand, 
Neither mixed, or ever planned, 
The small sports, — aiming to annoy, 
That spoil the man, as mar the boy. 
Rather, years earnest, pass away. 
And bring so soon, the parting day. 
With kindest feeling spoke Adieu! 
And Yale's loved shades are lost to view- 
Life in its meaning, and its strength 
Stood, all revealed to each, at length. 
They saw blacken, a nation's sky, 
Both heard addressed the startling cry: 
To Arms! To Arms! Be men or die. 
So roar of battle shook the main. 
And air on land is sulph'rous flame, 
Where stands the famous class of Yale? 
Where the two friends? Ah! list the tale! 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 89 

JOURNEY OF THE CONFEDERATE'S WIDOW TO 
GETTYSBURG LONG AFTER THE BATTLE- 

Unfading immortelles, 

Have graced long the portals 

Of her love's empty tomb; 
One hastens to-morrow, 
In journey with sorrow. 

Asking sadly the boon, 
To kneel nearer her dead, 
Press the dust, where he bled. 

If, thus in grief, must go, 
Would pardon still, late foe. 

Tread thus, the quiet field, 
That prowess fairly won, 
Where mound and sculptured stone 

Where, too, a nation's shield. 
Keeps guard o'er half its dead, 
But knows not her's, that bled. 



90 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

One is to meet her there, 
Whose melting love and prayer, 

Whose sweetest constancy. 
Has been so strong and true. 
Has counselled, to subdue, 

All strife with destiny. 
To trust, henceforth, to Heaven 
Forgive, and be forgiven. 

SORROW— ITS POWER. 

Who lives this life, and hath not wept? 
Even, as laughing eyes have slept. 
Parting, the clasping lash hath stole. 
Such proof of sorrow, from the soul; 
But the deep grief of weary years, 
Tells not its agony in teaTs. 
How fearful, wholly vain our strife, 
So mighty, crushing out the life; 
Leaving a calm, profound despair. 
Where all was once, but bright and fair. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 93 

So, sad in heart, tliis weary one 
Leaves for a time, her darkened home. 
Journeying in her weeds of woe — 
A holy love, hath bade her go. 
Yain the beautiful to Jier eye. 
Unheard are tones of sympathy — 
"Was lost, so lost, to one deep grief — 
Is there, God! for such relief? 
Is there calm for that sad brow? 
Must all be dark as seemeth now? 
But list the story of her grief, 
Told in her thrilling words — and brief. 

THE FATAL ENCOUNTER REHEARSED WHILE 

WAITING ON THAT PORTION OF THE FIELD, 

KNOWN AS CEMETERY HILL. 

Why comes she not? all is forgiven. 
Her early love knew no delay. 

To us, no hope is ours — ^but heaven ; 
All earthly joy has passed away. 



94 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Yet life's blest morn to both, was bright, 
But ere the noon, came darkest night, 
Our parting followed bridal days. 
Our meeting sad, with mournful bays! 

LOOKING TOWARDS GETTYSBURG. 

Most unfamiliar seem these skies, 

Impressive still, the hill and plain. 
Where yonder ramparts lengthened rise — 
Ah! o'er that mountain wall he came, 
A part to bear in the awful strife ; 
Here, to yield a beautiful life, 
He, the courteous, and the brave, 
Whom faction could not claim as slave. 

These heights, all clothed in purple light, 
Saw first, at last eve's setting sun, 

Knew the presence of beauty's might, 
Yet only thought, and felt he came, 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 95 

Over that gorgeous mountain wall, 
But in the humblest grave, to fall. 
He, the best of an honored name. 
Whose sacred dust, now cannot claim. 

Ah! turning to the southern sky. 

Higher the rugged Kound Top rose. 
Bearing a bowlder crest on high — 

While at the base, am told there flows, 
That muddy brook, along the dell. 
Where fiercest showers of battle fell. 
Fell in the lead and iron hail. 
Shrouding the mountain and the vale! 

And mingling came the flash of steel; 

Eanks dashing as the maddened sea: — 
They form, they rush, they stand or reel. 

With each 'tis death, or victory! 



96 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Thus, daring, pressing on the line, 
Falling — not one — but her's, and mine! 
Alas! the thrust received, and given, 
The fatal thrust! two lives thus riven. 

God! yet lived, who smote, to know 
Each bore the fratricidal steel; 

There slew the friend, in guise of foe, 
No words the horror may reveal. 

Thrust — instant on the brink of fate — 

All now undone, is hut too late! 

Dying — a moment left for prayer; 

Forgiving, — thus they perished there. 

Alas! where Round Top's shadows fall. 
So deeply dark, in leafy shade, 

Without flag, or funeral pall, 

Her's and mine in death were laid. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 99 

Ah! mine and lier's, the true and brave, 
So strangely filled one, bloody grave, 
While the tremor of conflict i^ealed. 
And surging columns, dashed or reeled. 

But when that awful battle roar 

Was hushed, within the frighted vale, 
Amid the carnage, and the gore. 

Trod one, with face as pale 
As those of calm, reposing dead, 
The rains had washed from stains of red, — 
Her face, in pallor so like death. 
Differed — for came, and went the breath. 

To her — that grave gave half its prey, 
And only marred, by single thrust, 
Then borne so tendei'ly away. 
And gathered to ancestral dust; 



100 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

With pomp of war, in depth of grief, 
The last rite paid her martyred chief. 
Banner and plume drooped o'er lier slain, 
But mine was left, and without name. 



Yet marked — in agony of gloom, 

The place of this dark, bloody grave, 
In the light of the struggling moon, 

Marked, and so carefully to save 
This spot of earth, to me so dear. 
Yet, awful through a chilling fear. 
To lier memory — only pain. 
Grave of the slayers, and the slain! 

Earth sure has nobleness, most high, 
And love, so tender, deep, and pure; 

The love, that mates us with the sky, 
And wreck of all things shall endure; 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 101 

Glowing in beauty, when the sun 
Closes his round, his mission done, 
Lives this love, so like to heaven, 
But to the blessed, only given. 

PARTING AND RE-UNEON. 

The parted for years, met that night — 
But flowing tears dimmed not the sight. 
From an adieu of tenderness. 
And later sorrows fathomless, 
So, this chosen place of meeting, 
All their touching words of greeting, 
Spoke the soul, in truest greatness 
Expressed of grief, — but tenderness 
Of feeling — only nobleness. 

« H: # 

They parted in joy, met in grief — 
Parted in hope; the bridal wreath 
Pressed each brow with an easy grace: 
One, wearing the spiritual face 



102 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

That painter, and poet admire; 

Other flashed the essential fire 

Of genius, so wild and free, 

Lovely, perfect, in symmetry. 

One went forth to a southern home. 

Other, o'er classic lands to roam; 

One breathed fragrance of orange bloom, 

Other wreathed bays, near Yirgil's tomb 

Sought the zephyr, courted the breeze, 

Braved the gusts of the Pyrenees. 

liingered, amid the glory of art, 

The beautiful, thrilling the heart; 

So passed the smiling, happy years, 

Where nature, art, and song endears. 

LETTERS RECEIVED, AND SENT. 

So sprightly, from the jasmine bower, 
Sped the sweet note of hidden power 
Winging, so swift, the changeful deep, 
A hand enfolds, and warm hearts speak 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 103 

So gracefully, in truth and love. 

With beauty freighted, sweet reply 

Ts wafted West, as happily. 

Witching in story, song and art, 

Gathered from wider, richer mart. 

Radiant, with the heart's own glow, 

Changeful, like light on mountain snow, 

Warm, in its amethystine hue, 

As varied, and ever new : 

Glowing, melting, as morning light, 

On steepy sides of Alpine height; 

Lovely, ever thus painted the page, 

Quaint, or classic, grotesque, or sage. 

* * * * 

But this charmed poetic life, 
Changed, at once, when the civil strife 
So menaced onr strength and power, 
Bringing for all, the trial hour. 
The Nation's flag of golden stars, 
The flag of white and crimson bars, 



104 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Floating out on the troubled breeze, 
In beckoning fold, on land and seas, 
Called the patriot-faithful home — 
Who loves the flag, must cease to roam. 
It leads the West — the mighty North, 
While flaunts another, from the South. — 
The fearful lines of death are drawn, 
While city, hamlet, crowded town. 
Pour forth their legions for the fight, 
Bidding these live, or die for right 
Most painful, pitiful the day, 
When love and peace seem swept away. 
Buried beneath the battle's tide, — 
Brother, in brother's blood so dyed. 
Where friend meets friend on hostile field, 
And sabre's point, each life has sealed! 
So runs our sad, and cruel tale 
Of martial classmates, of old Tale. 
Alas! the fearful, frightful strife — 
Demanding sternly, life for life. 



li i4i 



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,ii(l,kilil ij , \,y Ml 




BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 107 

So cruel, vengeful, to the last, 
Thank God, for mercy — it is past! 

AT THE GRAVE OF THE CO^'FEDERATE 
SLAIK 

They met that night, 
In solemn rite. 
Above the dead, 
Was service read; 
Deep, trusting prayer, 
Waked the still air. 
In Round Top's vale. 
While o'er his clay, 
The wreathed bay. 
Is gently laid, — 
Requiem said. 
Bright stars above 
So soft looked down — 
The air is love. 
The distant Town 



108 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Knew not the rite 

Of this late night. 
Alone with God, 
The living stood! 
Alone — weary — 
Thought, so dreary, 
Might fill each soul. 
Heaven, pitiful, 
Heaven, merciful! 
Peace, breathed within ; 
The earnest prayer, 
Found answer there. 
And now they stand, 
Joined, hand to hand, 
O'er the low head 
Of sleeping dead. 
Then, cross and bay, 
In love, they lay. 
Then kneel to pray, 
And tremulous say; 



"BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. 109 

Best thee, Best I 

Spirit now blest. 

Eest thee in heaven. 

Spirit forgiven! 

Washed from dark sin, 

Folded within, 

Embrace, so blest. 

Rest thee, rest ! 
* * * 

Requiem said, 
Above the dead. 
That deeper prayer — 
Then, silence there. 
Again keeping, 
The dead sleeping. 
In the low vale. 
Where chant and wail, 
No more is heard, — 
The dust unstirred 
To the last day. 



110 IDYLS OP GETTYSBURG. 

But the bowed went forth from the rite, 

With a sweet peace, and hope that night, 

To a new, and beautiful life — 

With holiest charity rife — 

Calmly bidding the mount and dell, 

With sacred dust, — a last farewell! 

DEPARTURE. 
Emerging from the leafy wood, 

Where, now, attendants waiting stood ; 

Were borne from thence so fast away, 

That long before the risen day, 

Kound Top's crest was lost to view, 

As other sweep of highlands too, 

That curving, seem to fence around 

The town, wuth bloodiest battle ground. 

These hills, first seen in purple light, 

As mantling beauty crowns each night, 

Three times have filled on the view ; 

But love now failed her heart anew ; 

Peaceful, like heaven, their last adieu. 



BLIGHTED, YET BEAUTIFUL. Ill 

Lovely — still was their greeting sad, 
Solemnly — yet the parting glad. 

WOMAK— HER POWER. 

» 
Holy the sympathy to woman given, 

Beautiful her mission, ordained of heaven, 
So sacred her trust, she may well beware; 
Trifle not ; but strong in her love and prayer. 
Thus the hand, and ever the heart be pure, 
All influence made but higher, truer: 
Careful to watch that hate be laid aside, 
The cruel malice — inglorious pride! 
Her holy work, silent, but strong in power. 
Will bring the wished — the blessed hour. 
When the whole nation, as these, late weeping, 
Yigil and rite, above its dead, keeping, 
Promise to love, forgive, he one again, 
And the whole land respond Amen ! Amen ! 



IDYL III. 



EARLT SPRING FLOWERS, 

PROM GULP'S HILL. 



IDYL III 



ADDRESSED TO MRS. F. If. B. 

^arig 3\nm% ^\mm ixmx (ffiulir'iss pill 

(hepatica, akd anemone nemorosa.) 

Near the foot of a riven oak, 

Trunk all shivered, by battle stroke — 

Gracefully grew these frail, spring flowers, 
Softly tinted, — droopingly stood, 
In early, sweetest sisterhood, — 

Bending lightly to passing showers, — 
Just as they bend to zephyr's wing. 
As he heralds the gentle spring. 

These flowers grew on hallowed ground, 

Late, where echoed the battle sound. 

1 15 



116 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Their tiny roots have all been dyed 
With deeper hue — the life blood stain 
Blent with the soil beneath the slain; 

Bathed, indeed, by the crimson tide 
That stained the hill, flushed the glen; 
Gushing from hearts of dying men. 



Why shrink you thus, from sweetest breath? 
Ah! no less sweet that carnage and death, 

Profuse, have fed each fair young life; 
Naught changes ever 'perfect mould, 
Or lessens one exquisite fold: 

Each, perfect, pure amid our strife 
Refining but the gross of earth; 
Each life, but beauty from its birth! 



Love these flowers for a nation's dead; 
liOve not less for the blood so shed, — 




>-"''<jV 



THE UNKNOWN. 119 

Tea, it giveth the richer bloom; 
They veiled the eye, from fearful sight, 
Wept in sadness, the wintry night. 

But leave behind such grief and gloom, 
They spring afresh, on field late red ; 
L<yve tliem well for our rwbh dead. 



Tenderly greet these lovely flowers, 

They weave that spell for charmed hours, 

Oft we have sought on other ground, 
When the damp chilling winds were there, 
All the woodlands still brown and bare; 

Then low anemone, have found 
On shielded slope, in sheltered vale. 
The early triloba, and pale. 



Fold the flowers in a heart of love; 
Never forget tJiese bloomed above 



120 IDYLS OP GETTYSBURG. 

Graves, so level at once, and lone; 
Where lovely grew, and all around 
Over this wide ensanguined ground: 

The graves are there, so low — Unknown, 
Where tender tears are never shed, 
In tribute thine, for stranger dead. 

The tear, thus falling, gently kind, 
Flows from a heart by love refined ; 

A charity, thus nobly true. 
Would seek to shield with kindly care, 
The once brother, sleeping there, — 

Would sometimes plant the mournful yew, 
Or now, that cruel war is past, 
Would yield the Christian rite at last. 



IDYL IV. 

NATIONAL 
OBPHAN HOMESTEAD. 



J 



IDYL IV. 



FIB8T SIGHT OF THE GETTYSBURG BATTLE FIELD, AND FIRST 
NIGHT AT THE HOMESTEAD. 

Or this field, the first sight, 
At THE HOMESTEAD, first night, 

There is stirred in the soul, 
Intensely deep feeling, — 
Such fancy unsealing, 

As defieth control. 
The dread charge sounds again 
From the hill-side and plain I 

Frightful the cannon roar, 
Shaking the ground, once more, 

123 



124 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

Shivering lance, — oft broke; 
Warring steeds, and brave men 
Crowd the gorge, and the glen,- 

So the sulphurous smoke 
Shuts out once more the light— 
I dream — is it the night? 



A dream — Ah! a troubled dream 
That flash, — is it the gleam 

Of sudden blazing fires? 
What is that awful sound? 
This ti'cmor of the ground, 

What demon's wrath inspires? 
Away! all horrible thought, — 
Enough, enough, — once fought! 



Be seen? Oh! never more. 
Would recall? no; deplore. 



ORPHAN HOMESTEAD. 125 

Wherever was sucli sight? 
These hills, so softly green, 
With sleeping vales between, 

Should ever know such fight! 
Should drip with human gore : 
Recall ? Oh ! never more I 



May not in dream, recall; 
So fearful, awful, all — 

Terrible, but in dream: 
Even the July sun, 
Festering work so done. 

Frightful, the piercing beam. 
Festering, foul the ray — 
Heaven shield from such a day I 



Away — warrior — ghost I 
Away, shadowy host! 



126 IDYLS OF GETTYSBURG. 

It is now peace, once more! 
Withdraw from yonder crest, 
Your foe may not invest; 

His power, as thine is o'er! 
He faltered on the plain, — 
Why wake the gliastly slain! 
* * * 

Then come, ! gentle sleep. 
For angel guards will keep 

Watch through the sacred ground ; 
For the lone orphan prayer, 
Invoketh heavenly care, 

To shelter thus, around ; 
To safely keep this night. 
Shielding with Gracious might. 



H 91 80 




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